Adventures In Solitude
by sweetsugarpea
Summary: It was Tomoe who had taught him how to love, but it is Kaoru who has taught him how to live. [A series of interconnected oneshots/drabbles; ratings may vary.]
1. Adventures In Solitude

**ATTN: I've loved RuroKen for literally forever, but this is my first time writing anything for the series. But after watching the live-action movie, I have found myself falling in love with the series (**_**and Takeru Sato**_**) all over again. Turns out that it's quite a difficult series to write for, lol. Anyway, I hope that I was able to keep them in character and keep all of their speech mannerisms correct. **

**This fic will be a collection of interrelated oneshots that will jump around the manga's timeline, so I'll be posting warnings for spoilers where they apply.**

**The name of the song for the chapter and the suggested background music is "Adventures In Solitude" by The New Pornographers. Spoiler-ish for the end of the Kyoto Arc. As always, I own nothing.**

* * *

"_I know you want to,_

_Breathe through,_

_Come back,_

_Come too,_

_But it's comin' at a bad time._

_Old scarred face,_

_Survivor's guilt,_

_For all we know."_

* * *

**Adventures in Solitude**

* * *

He awakens to the feel of the sun.

It's warm as it streams through the open window onto the side of his face. He can hear the rustling notes of the wind chime fluttering lightly in the breeze outside, and Kenshin can tell from the soft periwinkle color of the sky that it's still early. A soft sigh passes through his lips as he shifts beneath the covers, brow damp with sweat. He reaches upwards with a bandaged arm and drapes it across his eyes with relief; it had been only a dream. He had defeated the _hitokiri_ Makoto Shishio. He had won.

His amethyst eyes peer out from beneath his arm and gaze out the window for an indiscernible amount of time, watching the periwinkle bleed into a saturated ultramarine as the sun continues its climb in the sky. His mind is hazy still, but the color stands out to him. It's a brilliant shade of blue, a shade that brings to mind a promise he had made to a girl with the same colored eyes. Eyes that he can easily give the credit of his victory to, for if he had not remembered those eyes on the verge of death, he never would have had the strength to pull himself back to his feet.

The battle had been a staggering one, with the two _hitokiri_ battling for constant dominance. Shishio had been a fierce opponent, but in the end Kenshin's will to live had decided the outcome. But despite his victory, the memories of the fight and just how close he had come to death still sit uneasily within him.

The unrest in Kenshin's mind juxtaposes the peaceful quiet that settles around him in the room. From the strong scent of saltwater rolling on the wind, he knows that he is still in Kyoto. It makes his stomach churn uneasily from the bloody memories the smell brings up, and the sudden wistfulness for the damp and earthy scent of Tokyo makes him feel guilty. He has no right to miss that city. A man with such a sullied past does not deserve the nostalgic feelings of home.

_Home._

For how long has that place been home for him? He thinks to the tatty dojo and the mishmash of vagabonds who have come to reside there, and his heart is pulled taut. Never in his twenty-eight years of life has he ever thought that he would have anything close to a family, yet somehow this ragtag band of misfits have burrowed their way deep beneath his skin. When Kenshin had left Tokyo, he had, had no intention of ever returning. _It is in a rurouni's nature to wander,_ he had told himself, _and it is simply time to wander again_. Besides, this was his battle to fight; they had no part in it. But true to _their_ natures, almost everyone he had left had made good on their word to hunt him down. A small smile pulls at his chapped lips despite himself as he thinks at just how badly he had underestimated the stubbornness of his friends.

His thoughts are interrupted by a gentle, feminine yawn. Kenshin's eyes widen with shock as he turns his head to see a familiar form slumped over beside the doorway. Kenshin inhales sharply at her presence and his inability to have even noticed it. How long has she been in here? Her alabaster skin is particularly pale, her normally shimmering raven hair hanging limply in a loose braid on her shoulder. She is dressed in a white sleeping _yukata_, a thin blanket draped over her lap. Beneath the frame of bangs, he can see that her closed eyes are red and puffy. Had she been crying? The thought of her tears makes his chest constrict painfully.

Kenshin could hardly believe it when he had seen Kaoru standing breathlessly in the doorway of his _shishou_'s house. When he had said goodbye to her in Tokyo, he had been prepared for that to have been the very last time he would see her. With her, in that dojo that she so passionately protects with the friends she so fiercely loves, he had begun to feel at home: something that he did not deserve. The memory of holding her tightly to his chest, illuminated by the delicate glow of fireflies, is both the best and the worst memory he has. Kaoru's presence over time had acted like a salve for the blistering wounds on his soul, and holding her in his arms had felt like a cool drink of water after years wandering the desert. Hearing Kaoru's sobs as he walked away had cut him deeper than a blade, but what had kept him from turning around was the singular thought that it was for her own protection. But now, seeing her sitting diligently beside his bedside with tear-stained cheeks, Kenshin wonders how he ever had the strength to leave her.

For a long time, the only sound in the room is the staccato of songbirds and Kaoru's soft snoring. Kenshin is so entranced by the presence of the headstrong, slumbering girl that he almost misses the sound of the _shoji_ door sliding open. He manages to drag his eyes away from Kaoru to see who is there, and his eyebrows lift to his bangs at the familiar fluttering of inky black hair.

Megumi looks just as surprised as he does before her red lips pull into a pleased smile. "Good morning, Ken-san. I'm pleased to see that you're awake." She notices Kaoru slumped against the far wall and scowls, but ignores her for the moment in favor of conversing with the wounded _rurouni._

"Thank you, Megumi-dono." Kenshin says weakly, offering her a polite smile in return as he follows her line of sight. His voice comes out hoarse from going without use, and his throat feels dry and scratchy. "But this one is quite surprised to see you, that I am."

Megumi kneels beside the futon, placing her medicine box off to the side. "Well, when you returned, Kaoru-san had sent me word of how badly you were injured." She throws a sideways glance to the young woman behind her. Her face betrays her worry and she looks away quickly before murmuring, "You were in very poor shape, Ken-san."

Kenshin smiles apologetically as he sits up despite the stabbing pain in his ribs. Megumi reaches towards him to help him up, shifting him slightly to face her so she can change his bandages. Megumi does not make eye contact as she slides his borrowed _yukata _from his shoulders and undoes the dirtied wrappings around his torso.

"I do not doubt that, that I do not." Kenshin responds solemnly as she busies herself with re-cleaning the gashes on his arms. The mixture Megumi dabs on them stings against his still-healing cuts, but he does not show any signs of complaint. The feeling of guilt over the entire situation aches worse than his injuries. "Forgive this one for putting you through so much trouble," he asks.

"Well, you can show you're sorry by taking this." She hands him an herb to chew to help with his pain while she examines the ugly purple bruises that have blossomed all over his skin. Kenshin winces as her fingers press firmly on his ribcage, examining each rib for fractures. "You're very lucky, Ken-san." Is all she says when she retracts her hands a few minutes later.

"This one gives you many thanks," Kenshin says, eyes flitting to Kaoru's figure. "And his apologies for worrying you all."

Megumi snorts, throwing her head towards Kaoru. "You should say that to _tanuki_-girl when she wakes up. Ever since Rooster Head came back with you half-dead, she's been a worried mess. She's barely left your side since you've returned."

"Oro? Is that why Kaoru-dono is in here?"

"I would assume. You were very feverish last night when I came in to check on you. She heard the commotion and came in, but I had told her that there was nothing to worry about and that she should go back to bed. Judging from her position, however, it appears she did not listen to me."

"Kaoru-dono rarely complies with opinions that conflict with her own." Kenshin smiles gently at the stubborn swordswoman, and Megumi does not miss the tenderness in his eyes. After a moment he turns back to the young doctor. "Oro, How long has this one been asleep for?"

"About three days, now."

"_Oro?!"_

Megumi snaps the drawers of her medicine box shut with a huff. "Do not act so surprised about it. Your body was put under enormous strain and sustained very serious injuries. You need to learn to take better care of yourself," She scolds.

Kenshin chuckles quietly. "I promise to be more careful with my health, that I do."

"Good." Megumi says before standing up. She turns to him before opening the door again. "Now lay back down and rest. You'll make a full recovery but you still have a long ways to go before you're able to move about again. I will send someone up with food and drink in a little while." Almost as a second thought, she casts a glance towards Kaoru. "And if she wakes up and starts making a fuss, you kick her out. You need your rest." With that, the _shoji_ door slides closed with a _clack_.

With Megumi's departure, Kenshin's attention goes back to studying Kaoru. The dusty purple bags beneath her eyes are easy to see from the small distance between them, and he hears an echo of Megumi's earlier words:

_She's barely left your side since you've returned._

His eyes soften as he watches the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. A fever? It explains the bad dreams he had suffered. Kenshin frowns though at the thought of Kaoru staying up all night to watch over him. Despite his best efforts to shield her from his affairs, he still always ends up making her worry. He sighs and attempts to lay back down again to follow Megumi's orders, but the sudden movement of his abdominal muscles causes a shooting pain in his side. Kenshin hisses in pain and then silently scolds himself when he sees Kaoru stir.

Slowly her sapphire eyes flutter open, puffy from exhaustion and worry. Her voice is airy and soft as she murmurs, "Kenshin?"

Even in the cool morning air, Kenshin feels a contented warmth bloom in his chest at the sound of his name on her lips. He smiles warmly as her eyes widen with surprise. "It is not good for your neck to sleep that way, Kaoru-dono, that it is not."

She sits up straight and blinks once, twice, three times before her face dissolves into tears. "You _idiot_! You go and almost get yourself killed by some—some _lunatic—_and _that_ is the first thing you say to me when you wake up?" She cries. "I should _slap_ you for all of the stress you've caused me!"

"Oro? Don't cry, Kaoru-dono!" Kenshin panics, waving his hands at her. "This one is just fine! Megumi-dono even said that I shall make a full recovery, that I will!"

"_Still!_" Kaoru cries, shuffling towards him on her hands and knees. She kneels beside his futon, hands fisted tightly in her lap. Her eyes are glossy with tears that threaten to spill as she bows her head, too overwhelmed to look straight at him. Her shoulders shake as she refrains from touching him; after how badly he had been hurt, the need for tangible reassurance that he is okay is difficult to combat. "Seeing you come back looking the way you did…and all of the close calls these past few days, I just—"

Kenshin reaches up gently to cup her cheek. Kaoru stills at his touch, her gaze meeting his as she feels his calloused thumb wipe away her tears. "Please do not cry, Kaoru-dono." He pleads quietly. "This lowly one had seen enough of your tears when he left, that he did."

Kaoru sniffles. "I'm sorry," She says, rubbing her eye with the sleeve of her _yukata_. "It's just that I've been so worried about you."

"But I am fine now, Kaoru-dono."

"I know, but for a while it looked like you _wouldn't_ be fine. When you were off facing Shishio, I was so scared for you. And then when Sano had brought you back…" The thought makes new tears glitter in her eyes. "I kept saying your name over and over again, but you wouldn't answer me. I thought you were _dead_. I thought…I thought…"

Kenshin runs his thumb across her cheek as she struggles to finish. "Thank you," He says with understanding. His eyes are deep and heartfelt, and for a second the morning light catches them in a way that makes Kaoru breathless. "I am sorry for making you worry for me, that I am."

"It's alright," She says with a small smile despite her tears. She lifts her hand to cover his and presses it more to her cheek. The contact is intimate, but neither speak of it. The past few months have been awful for the both of them for numerous reasons, but the biggest reason of all for the moment has been resolved with this touch. _He's alive, _she thinks. _A little worse for wear, but he's alive and he is __**here.**_

He gives her a smile. Gingerly, he says, "You know, I like Kaoru-dono's smiles much more than her tears, that I do."

He does not tell her that it is because of her smiles that he had found his will to live that day. He does not say how leaving had been one of the hardest things he's ever had to do, or how not a day has gone by since his departure that he has not thought of her and the place of belonging she has given him. Instead, he answers the unvoiced fears that still linger in her heart when he asks how much laundry will be there to greet him when he returns home.

At the very notion of home, she clutches his hand tightly and her smile is brilliant, and he finds that for the first time since he can remember, his is the same.

* * *

"_We thought we lost you,_

_We thought we lost you._

_We thought we lost you,_

_Welcome back."_

* * *

**Japanese Vocab:**

_**-**__**Hitokiri**_**: "Manslayer, assassin" (depending on the translation)**

**-**_**Shishou**__**:**_** "Teacher/Master", usually used as an honorific when addressing a martial arts teacher**

**-**_**Shoji**_**: A traditional Japanese sliding paper door**

_**-**__**Rurouni**_**: "Wanderer"**

**- "-**_**dono**__**"**_**: Japanese honorific; very formal**

**-**_**"**__**Oro**__**"**_**: Kenshin's trademark interjection**

**-**_**Tanuki**_**: "Raccoon"**

**-**_**Yukata**_**: A Japanese kimono made from cotton; much lighter and less ornate than standard kimonos; often used for sleepwear**


	2. Don't

**ATTN: This is easily one of my most favorite moments in all of RuroKen. I kind of mixed the dialogue from both the anime and the manga depending on what I felt worked the best. I hope you like it!**

**The inspiration and suggested background music for this chapter is "C'est La Mort" by The Civil Wars. As always, I own nothing.**

* * *

_"Let's walk down the road that has no end_  
_Steal away where only angels tread_  
_Heaven or hell or somewhere in between_  
_Cross your heart to take me when you leave"_

* * *

** Don't**

* * *

The light maize of her kimono glows an almost ethereal shade of teal in the soft light of fireflies, and for the briefest moment a surety settles within Kenshin that Amaterasu herself could not carry herself with the humble grace that this girl effortlessly emits. He wants to still his steps, to take in the beautiful calm before the storm, but he does not have the luxury of being a selfish man and thus continues up the path to meet her.

"These are beautiful fireflies."

A gentle breeze whisks by, kicking up the leaves and turning her to face him. Her eyes are wide and blue and glittering with a joy that he watches drain away with no small pang of guilt. She's always had a way of reading him without words, and Kenshin figures that a heart as large as hers should come with no short supply of empathy. He gives her no smile because he knows that it wouldn't reach his eyes, and Kaoru is a woman who deserves nothing short of heartfelt worship.

"Where is Yahiko?" He asks.

"Yahiko?" Her hands twine around the sleeve of her kimono and she looks down almost bashfully. "Oh. He got tired from trying to stay up to meet you and fell asleep. He's still a little kid, you know."

The corner of Kenshin's lips pulls up for a split second before settling back into his stoic expression. "I see." His voice is distant, vying for time.

Kaoru's thin brows knit together at his far-off look. She takes a step closer. "Kenshin?"

"Ohkubo-dono was assassinated this morning."

Kaoru pulls her hand to her chest, frowning. "I know, I saw it in the papers."

"The real killer was one of Shishio's men. Now that I know how Shishio does things, I cannot just leave him alone." Kenshin's face is steeled and he watches Kaoru search his eyes for any hint of the softness she's so accustomed to seeing there. The muscles in his jaw are tight and the usual clear amethyst of his irises is now a sharp and glinting Byzantium. Nothing in his voice or eyes betrays the regret his next words bring him. "I'm going to Kyoto."

Another, harsher wind skitters through the empty road, taking with it both the warmth of the late spring evening and the color in Kaoru's cheeks. They are silent for seven agonizing heartbeats, ones that pulse like _taiko_ drums in his ears, before she finds her voice. It's hollow and quivering like a bowstring. The sound lays another weight upon his heavy conscience.

"You're…you're going to…_assassinate_ Makoto Shishio?"

His steadfast mask cracks slightly. Coming from her lips, the words seem filthy and suddenly his resoluteness is completely upended. He squeezes his eyes shut and bows his head as if to repent. He feels as if he needs to say something, anything to explain to her his intent with leaving for Kyoto.

"No…I don't know…"

And he doesn't. He doesn't have the faintest idea _what_ he is going to do when the time comes. Since his discovery of Ohkubo's body this morning, it feels as if there is an hourglass on his chest that threatens to crush him with every moment that passes between now and the inexorable battle. All he knows is that he wants to stay here, with her, in this dojo; in this comfortable little life that he somehow had the miraculous luck of stumbling into. But Kenshin knows that this is not an option. Not for a man like him.

His eyes lose their edge in his abstraction and Kaoru finds a miniscule amount of relief in seeing the shift but this is short-lived as she hears the polite guise of the rurouni crumble. "If I remain as I am now, I will fight him until I defeat him. However, as I was in the fight with Saitou, I may revert back to the Battousai."

Kenshin's voice softens. "During my stay here, my heart was at ease. I felt as if I had changed from the hitokiri to an ordinary swordsman." He pauses, balling his fists tightly by his sides. He can feel his fingernails digging into his palm and the dull sting helps to clear his thoughts. His eyes grow hard yet again, calloused by reality. "But the fight with Saitou forced me to realize something. Deep within me, there is a vicious manslayer who will never change."

And so brightly shines her fire as she seizes his shoulders with her small hands.

"But you were able to return to normal afterwards!" Kaoru fights, her imperial blue eyes brimming with stubborn tears. "Both with the time with Jin'eh and the time with Saitou. No matter how close you come to the Battousai, you always come back as yourself: A wanderer who doesn't kill!"

"No."

Kenshin turns his face away from her, a bone-deep sense of shame settling beneath his skin. Her determination only serves as yet another reason why he does not deserve to stay. Despite her brimming, misplaced confidence in him, Kenshin can feel her hands trembling as they fist themselves into the thick burgundy cotton of his _gi_.

"When I fought Jin'eh, I became Battousai in order to save you, and it was your voice that had brought me back. But with Saitou, I had become Battousai only for the sake of fighting." Kenshin confesses. "During that fight, not even your voice could have reached me. That difference is crucial."

He feels her hands slide limply from his shoulders, and he misses the contact instantly. Kaoru's eyes are downcast, shoulders slumped in a posture of defeat that does not suit her. Kenshin takes a small step closer, his voice sliding back into the gentle tone of his wandering counterpart. But there is a difference; it is distinct and it is warm, the words he speaks filled with sincerity.

"When I first met you…even though you knew I was the hitokiri Battousai, you kept me from leaving. You had told me…that you didn't care about my past." Kaoru's eyes look up to meet his, and the warmth and gratitude that she finds within them leaves her breathless. His smile is sweet and gentle and full of heart. "I was very happy."

And it's true. Happiness, contentment, belonging; these are things that he had long thought he had buried with his demons in Kyoto all those many years ago. But wandering through this bustling city, meeting this rambunctious, exuberant, whirlwind of a woman, and forging ironclad bonds with so many others that he'd never thought he would have, had seemed to breathe new life into his tired soul. After so many years of aimless wandering, he had managed to find someone to release the past he drags with him like shackles with uncompromising, unconditional acceptance. It did not take long for each and every friend he has made here to root themselves deep within his heart, the woman before him most of all.

"But to the government, to Shishio, and to all the people who hold a grudge against me from the past, the Battousai is all I'll ever be."

The unshed tears in Kaoru's eyes shimmer in the dancing light of the fireflies, and Kenshin feels his heart pull tight. He hates seeing her tears, hates them more than he hates himself, and a part of him blames her for how selfish he's become. He wants to protect them all, protect _her,_ protect this fragile happiness he's found in his many years of solitude. And as much as it makes his heart ache, (_and it __**aches**__, oh, does it ache,_) to protect the joy he's come to call his own, he must leave it behind him forever.

In a breath, Kenshin's resolve collapses and he takes her into his arms.

For someone so strong, she feels as fragile as a bird. He can feel her shaking, and Kenshin can't help himself but to tighten his hold. Kenshin knows it's selfish and he hopes that Kaoru will forgive him, but he needs to feel her. He needs to take in every last detail about her, from the sweet jasmine perfume of her hair to the quiet sounds of her breaths to the soft feel of her cotton kimono catching on the callouses of his fingertips. Kenshin burns these into his mind like a brand for the many, many nights he knows will come where he will sit alone beneath the stars and wonder if such miracles are real.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me." Kenshin says, and he prays that she cannot hear the sadness that he feels already consuming him. "_Sayonara_."

Kenshin can feel her tears seeping into his shoulder, and he keeps the gentle smile on his face for her sake. "I am a rurouni." He says, and he cannot help to keep all of his sorrow from his voice. "And once again…I will wander."

He turns from her and steps away in a graceful, fluid movement despite his body feeling as if it weighs a thousand pounds. Kenshin hears the dull _thud_ as she falls to her knees behind him, and it takes every ounce of discipline he has not to turn around.

"Ken…shin…" Kaoru gasps, voice thick with grief. "_Kenshin!"_

He squeezes his eyes shut, begging for the pain in his chest to subside. The sound of her sobs make his lungs burn because she's crying for _him,_ she wants _him_ to stay, it's _him_ that is making her cry like this. Each step feels like a journey of a thousand miles, but Kenshin does not slow or falter. He wants to turn around and run to her, to hold her in his arms and never, for anyone or anything, let go. But he is a hitokiri, a man stained beyond salvation by the blood of the many he's wronged. Kenshin has no right to ever even wish for the happiness he's come to know here.

As Kaoru's voice finally begins to fade away to the soft murmurs of late spring evenings, he allows himself to release a shaking breath. This is what he deserves, but the burning in his chest doesn't feel _fair._ Why can't he have this? He's been paying his pound of flesh every day since the moment he'd lifted his sword against another. Misery and anguish have been daily constants for as long as he would care to remember. But this greed in his heart only seems to push him further and further away from the place Kenshin has found to call his own. It does not matter what he wants, he realizes, because no matter how much he atones, nothing will wash the blood from his hands.

_It's for the best,_ he tells himself. _It's for the best._

As he leaves this place, he does not permit himself to look back. But he does allow himself the arrogance to pray to any god out there still willing to listen to the likes of a man like him. And so he prays; he prays with everything he has to whatever power willing to hear him to watch over her in his stead.

* * *

"_Do__n't go,_

_Please, don't go,_

_Don't go without me."_

* * *

**Japanese Vocabulary:**

**_-Gi: _A traditional male shirt. The color of Kenshin's vary between different shades of deep red or purple, and Kaoru will often wear a white gi when training.**

**-_Taiko__:Traditional japanese drums, often used in festivals and ceremonies._**

**-_Sayonara:_ "Goodbye". Usually a term like "ja ne" ("see you later") or some other variation would be used, but the significance of Kenshin saying '_sayonara_' is that it is a word that is used when one does not know when or if they will return.**


	3. You Are My

**ATTN: **

_**Spoiler(ish) for the epilogue, meaning chapters 253 and beyond. Ye be warned.**_

**I've been wondering what would make Kenshin cut his hair, and while I think that Kenji has a lot to do with it (lol), I wondered if he would maybe have cut it before he's born for personal reasons? This chapter kind of grew from that thought, and a slight budding obsession with Regina Spektor.**

**The musical inspiration and suggested background music for this chapter is "Samson" by Regina Spektor. General disclaimers apply.**

* * *

"_You are my sweetest downfall_

_I loved you first, I loved you first_

_Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads_

_But they're just old lights, they're just old lights_

_Your hair was long when we first met"_

* * *

**You Are My**

* * *

They are sitting together on the _engawa_ when he asks her. Despite the blanket of heat that remains from the scorching August day, each have a filled teacup cradled in their hands; gifts from his shishou from their most recent trip to Kyoto. She lowers the porcelain from her lips and turns to him in quiet surprise. It is a strange request, but one that feels natural as it falls from his tongue. He does not look at her but instead looks up towards the sky, watching the deep reds of the dying sun paint the clouds while his thumb traces the design of white plum blossoms on his cup.

"What would bring this decision on so suddenly?" Kaoru asks him. Kenshin does not need to look at her to know her expression; bottom lip pouted in thought, thin brow quirked above sharp blue eyes. It is not an unreasonable question to ask, but Kenshin finds difficulty expressing just what he hopes to accomplish, because he is honestly unsure himself. Maybe it's to accomplish nothing at all.

Kenshin turns towards her with his serene violet eyes and smiles in a way that makes the corners feel heavy. He gives a small shrug, turning to watch as a firefly floats across the courtyard. "This one feels like it is time for a change, is all," He offers.

It seems like everything is changing these days.

Sanosuke's rapid departure had been jarring, but yet not entirely unexpected. Since leaving Japan, he has been scarce with updates: the last letter they had received had chronicled his recent adventures through China, but that had been months ago. Kaoru's temper flares at his impertinence whenever his name is mentioned, but Kenshin knows it is because she worries.

Unlike Sanosuke, Megumi keeps them up to date with her goings on in Aizu. The dojo has come to expect her periodic letters and packages of homemade medicines and salves. Even with the distance and her recent influx of new patients, she tries her hardest to make time once a month to come to Tokyo to see them. When she visits Kaoru will complain about having to house such an ungrateful _kitsune_, but the smiles on her face that Kenshin catches her wearing as she prepares the tea betrays her.

Kenshin sympathizes even though Kaoru does not express her explicit feelings on the matter. Even with Megumi and Misao's frequent visits, their dojo that once teemed with life now seems noticeably vacant and he knows that today's events have only made the feeling of loneliness worse.

Despite having been given Sanosuke's quarters more than a year ago, it was only this past week that Yahiko had decided that it was time for him to seize some independence. Merely an hour ago the pair had bid him farewell for the evening when he departed after dinner. As always Kaoru's voice had been loud and lively in reminding him not to be late for practice tomorrow, but as soon as her pupil exited the gates her eyes had dimmed and her smile faltered. Now it is only the two of them again, for the first time in almost two years.

It is this feeling of loneliness that had prompted him to make the humble request for her company this evening. She chatters away in an attempt to reacquaint herself with his singular presence and Kenshin listens kindly and replies when expected, but it does not last for long as they fall into a comfortable, delicate lull. The first few nights they had spent in each other's company when he had first begun boarding at the dojo had been partly awkward and largely maladroit as both were unaccustomed to company. Now Kenshin looks upon the silence with a half-amused sense of irony, because now neither of them are accustomed to being alone.

Nostalgia grips his heart as he takes a small sip of his tea. It's cold now, having sat too long in his hands, and it makes him think to summer evenings looking over rice paddies drinking chilled tea from a chipped cup beside a girl who did not bother to struggle for conversation. She would lean her head on his shoulder and sip at her tea while twirling long, auburn strands of his ponytail between her fingers.

Kenshin remembers one night clutching a small knife in aggravation, ready to cut the rusty locks off rather than bother with untangling the gnarls left over from a job gone wrong. He remembers those thin fingers gently wrapping around his hand and then tracing up his arm before settling themselves within his hair, brushing the knots out with an ethereal patience. When asked why she would bother, she had told him in that endearingly unequivocal way of hers that it would be a shame to needlessly cut such beautiful hair. He hadn't tried to trim it again.

"That's fair enough," Kaoru agrees. Her voice has a distant, thoughtful sound to it that brings Kenshin back to that evening and that teacup. "But are you sure that you want to cut it all off? Just like that?"

Kenshin shrugs again with a smile veiled in melancholy. "My hair has been long for long enough, that it has." And it has been. It's been long for _too_ long now, tangled and coarse with split ends and breaks. Many times as a rurouni he had toyed with the idea of trimming it, but every time the mood had struck him it had been in a moment of weakness where he'd be hungry or tired or cold, and then it became that he simply could not part with it. Thus it had been left to its own devices, growing thick and wild and matted from the elements and neglect, because back then only one person had ever really cared about keeping it healthy and smooth and the routine had died along with her.

"It's a shame," Kaoru muses with a smile of her own. She reaches up and tugs lightly on one of his bangs and he chuckles. "Your hair is beautiful."

A hundred different emotions swell within his chest, but Kenshin does not show any of them. Instead, he reaches up to her hand and wraps it in his own, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. "This one merely asks for a haircut, that he does. Unless Kaoru-dono plans to make me bald, that is." He teases. Kaoru grins lopsidedly and nudges him in the side with her elbow.

"Let me go find a knife, then." She says, standing and dusting off the skirt of her light pink kimono. "I think Megumi-san may have even left a pair of scissors here!"

Kenshin hums absently as her voice drifts further away into the house. The sun has now set, casting the yard in a varying palette of blues. He looks up and can just make out the beginning of stars prickling through the darkness. When he was a young boy, Hiko had shown him hundreds of constellations and had taught him the mythologies behind them, and Kenshin had spent many a night as a wanderer tracing them on his own. He reaches up quietly to grab at the strands of hair that Kaoru had just been pulling on, and finds a momentary comfort in the abstract thought that despite their distance, all of the members of his little family are sleeping beneath these same stars.

Kaoru's _tabi_ socks shuffle on the wood behind him and he turns to her. She's smiling, holding a pair of metal shears in one hand and a candle in the other. "We're in luck," She announces, snipping them together for emphasis. "Megumi-san left a pair of scissors." She settles on her knees behind him and sets the candle down, and Kenshin feels her hands gently work the tie out from his hair. Finally released, the fiery tendrils flow down his back and brush the wood grain. He feels her run her fingers through it, and he glances behind him. Her face is wistful and she asks him again, "Are you really sure you want to cut it, Kenshin?"

Kenshin finds it harder to affirm it the second time. Her fingers are tugging gently through his hair, and something lumps in his throat. Regret? Anxiety? _Relief_? He doesn't know and doesn't say, so he merely nods his head. Kaoru does not ask him again, but instead begins to gently pull her brush through his hair, untangling the snags and kinks with careful fingers. Kenshin closes his eyes and allows himself to fall into the long-forgotten habit of counting the brush strokes. It is a habit that he finds he has missed terribly.

Almost thirteen years have passed since he has felt this. Around him are the low hums of cicadas, the rustling of leaves in the warm evening breeze, and the sound of a comb being dragged through thick hair. It mingles with the even ins and outs of their breath, and for a moment he's back in that house with thin, graceful fingers tugging at his scalp and his heart. He inhales deeply with the expectation of white plum blossoms, and feels a stirring in his chest when he smells jasmine instead.

He feels her gather the long strands at the nape of his neck, calloused fingers brushing against the sensitive skin. The contact makes him shiver despite the heat of the night. She's slow and meticulous as she parts the hair into sections, and even though he can hear the metallic sound of the scissors' blades moving, the first cut takes him by surprise.

Kenshin inhales unsteadily, hand groping beside him for the newly discarded hairs. He picks them up and holds them before his own eyes. The lock of hair is soft but frayed-looking, dull in the yellowish glow of the candle. Is this really the same hair that Tomoe would spend hours brushing? He gives a small, apologetic smile to her memory for wasting all of her hard work.

Kaoru continues to snip away, pausing every so often to fluff the fringe with her fingers. Kenshin leans into her touch almost subconsciously, heart suddenly aching for the contact. For thirteen years this hair has grown upon his head, and parting with it is more difficult than Kenshin had anticipated. He holds the lock of hair tightly in his fist because even though he's used to saying goodbyes it's still hard to let go.

Gently he hears Kaoru set the scissors down on the floor beside them, and she spends a moment simply running her hands through his now shoulder-length hair. The feeling makes his heart thrum. Her voice is quiet when she whispers, "There, all done."

Kenshin reaches a hand up to feel it and belatedly realizes that it's trembling. He combs his fingers through it over and over again, grabbing at the strands and pulling as if to demand more hair to spring forth from his head. He's one part lost and two parts dazed and disbelieving as he turns his head from side to side, the newly trimmed edges tickling the sides of his cheeks. After a few moments he leans his head back and stares at the sky, and he realizes he's crying.

"It feels so light," He says.

Kaoru shuffles to his side and places her hand to his scarred cheek, tracing the well-known lines with her thumb before brushing away his tears. Her smile is tender, tolerant, and most of all understanding, and Kenshin feels the weight of lifetimes leave him.

How effortlessly it seems that this woman manages to carry his burdens. She worries and cares despite knowing the truth of his past, and he doesn't know any words to tell her how grateful he is for her. For her smiles and her tears, for her touches and her words. He feels guilty for crying like this because he knows how she worries but he can't seem to stop and she doesn't seem to mind. So in the light of the fireflies he holds her once again, burying his face in her hair and shaking in her arms like a child because she understands him and recognizes that even bittersweet memories are hard to say goodbye to.

Kaoru runs her fingers through his hair and rubs soothing circles into his scalp until his breathing evens out into a soft cadence against the side of her neck. He's still in trembling awe at just how much he feels has changed and just how little he's found he's wanted it to. It's a loneliness that goes bone deep, but when she presses her lips to his eyes he realizes that goodbyes don't always mean endings, and he thanks her with a press of his lips to her cheek.

* * *

"_You are my sweetest downfall,_

_I loved you first"_

* * *

**Japanese vocab:**

**-**_**Engawa**_**: A porch, customary to traditional Japanese houses/dojos**

**-**_**Kitsune**_**: "Fox"**

**-**_**Tabi socks**_**: The kind of socks you see Kenshin, Kaoru, Megumi, Yahiko, and others wear. They have a split seam so that the big toe and the four smaller toes are separated.**


	4. What We Have

**ATTN: Sorry for the long wait! Hopefully I'll be able to get back to regular updates every few days again. Thank you so much for everyone's continued support and feedback! You guys are awesome!**

**This chapter takes place at the very beginning of the series about a month after Kenshin starts staying there, specifically around the time right before they meet Yahiko. **

**The suggested background music/inspiration for this chapter is "Fool's Gold" by The Middle East. Standard disclaimer applies.**

* * *

"'_Cause what we have_

_Is good as gold_

_Malleable_

_Good to hold_

_Molding is good_

'_Cause life is change_

_And change is good_

_And you are good"_

* * *

**What We Have**

* * *

He's not used to sleeping through the night. The life of a wanderer is not conducive to things like comfort and proper circadian rhythms, so many nights Kenshin finds himself awake and alone with his brooding thoughts, of which there is never a deficit. He finds nights like tonight to be the worst, when the air is frigid and the wind is baying and the chill is seeping into his bones. There have been many nights like this where he's rested beneath a tree with his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and his hands tucked deep into the sleeves of his gi, and every time he's given the sweet relief of unconsciousness he dreams of white plum blossoms and awakens feeling even colder than before.

He shifts beneath the covers of the futon to gaze at the dull moonlight streaming in through the shoji door and the familiar weight of self-reproach settles in his chest as he thinks of where he is. This particular night finds him with the good fortune of having run into a kindly young woman with crackling blue eyes and a heart too big for her litheness. His streak of luck in meeting her has provided him with shelter, regular meals, and the pleasantness of company; three things that he greatly appreciates but can't in good conscience accept without his host's firm insistence.

As the wind dies down for the moment he can hear the soft snores of said host in the room adjacent to his: soft and fluttering and feminine. Kenshin smiles with wistful amusement at the unintentional oxymoron. Kamiya Kaoru is undoubtedly feminine, but he finds that there are more suiting words for her than _'soft'_, words like '_passionate'_ and '_steadfast'_ and '_exuberant'_. She's a firecracker with a _shinai_ and a bonfire of good intentions; warm and friendly and inviting to all whom cross her path. Even to the likes of him, someone whose past is sullied beyond reclamation, Kaoru-dono is nothing but cordial.

Kenshin drapes an arm across his eyes and sighs when he feels the prickling of goosebumps on his skin from the cold. It's been almost a month since he's come to stay here, and the two have already fallen into a comfortable routine together. Kaoru-dono will manage her dojo in the mornings while he cleans and does the laundry and then they'll shop together in the early afternoons, and then he'll cook their meals and later she'll join him for tea in the evenings with a smile and idle chatter. It's getting to be too much. _She's_ too much. She's endearing and understanding and wonderful and if he forgets himself, he could actually be happy here. He shivers as the wind picks up again and a draft slips through the room.

Quietly he slides out from beneath the blankets and reaches for his worn magenta gi and white _hakama_, quick to change as to conserve what little warmth his body has retained from being bundled up in bed. Kenshin knows from experience that sleep will not find him tonight, and so he sets to folding up the futon and tucking it away in the corner of his room by the bureau. After a moment's thought, he carefully folds the sleeping yukata he has been lent and places it in a drawer for what is perhaps the last time.

He'll leave come morning, he decides. It would be rude to slip away during the night after all the hospitality he has been shown, he tells himself. Kenshin is careful not to acknowledge the small part of him that simply wishes to see the kind smile of the girl in the next room one last time before he departs. He instead focuses on re-folding the blankets until they are immaculate.

Kaoru-dono has been good to him, better than anyone he's come across in his ten years of travel and maybe some years before that. He crosses his legs and leans against the far wall with his _sakabatō_ resting on his shoulder and thinks of how he can even begin to thank her when he leaves. He wants to do something for her, but he has no clue as to what.

He has no money for a suitable gift, and supposes that he could possibly clean the house and polish the dojo floors to a glittering shine, but it's still too late in the night to do a thorough job and candles would only cause more of a mess with their wax. For a second Kenshin toys with the idea of finishing the laundry that he'd put aside yesterday, but a howling gust of wind brings a chill to the air that quickly has him dreading the thought of being anywhere near water. Regrettably, Kenshin realizes that any and all chores he wishes to do must wait until later when the sun is rising and the temperature isn't so bitingly cold. For now, he must content himself with his scathing thoughts. But guilt and bad memories aside, he decides that if he must play the waiting game then he might as well do so with a warm cup of tea.

Kenshin slips his sakabatō into the belt of his hakama and walks towards the shoji door to head off to the kitchen. He feels somewhat remorseful when he realizes that this is the last time that he will be leaving this room. His violet eyes glance over the room with a fondness that he did not expect and he sighs deeply, sliding open the door before he loses the will to leave it.

He is surprised when he is met with startled blue eyes. Kaoru stands in the doorway with one hand raised and poised to knock on the doorframe. Her ebony hair is loosely braided and her fair skin stands out from the shadows around them. She looks tiny with an oversized _hanten_ and a thick blanket draped over her petite shoulders, and Kenshin finds himself wondering how her imperial blue eyes can seem so bright in such darkness. These bright blue eyes widen as she squeaks out a sheepish '_hello'_.

"Good evening, Kaoru-dono." Kenshin replies with his usual smile. "You're up awfully late. Is there something that this one can help you with?"

"No, I'm alright." She says, glancing away and shifting her weight from foot to foot. "The wind just woke me up and it was chilly and I realized that you might be cold too so I brought you an extra blanket." Kenshin looks down to see that she is indeed carrying a thick woolen blanket in her other arm. She pushes the blanket into his hands and he smiles gratefully.

"That's very kind of you, that it is." Kenshin says, and it's too dark to tell for sure but he thinks he sees a faint coloring in her cheeks.

"Don't mention it," Kaoru smiles, laughing a bit to herself. "I feel terrible that I didn't leave you with more to begin with; I forgot how drafty this room can be and—" Her laughter stops the moment she actually looks at him and realizes what he's wearing. Kenshin can immediately hear the tinge of concern in her voice when she speaks again. "Kenshin, why are you dressed? It's the middle of the night." She glances around him and he notices her figure tense when she spots what must be his folded futon. "Are you…going somewhere?"

Kenshin feels a twinge of guilt as he slips into an easy smile, one that he hopes will ease her sudden anxiety. "This one just had some trouble sleeping and decided to go make some tea. I guess I'm still not used to sleeping on a futon, that I'm not." He chuckles, scratching the back of his head. Kaoru looks unconvinced, worried eyes settling on his sword.

"Why do you have your sakabatō?" She asks.

"Oro?" Kenshin says, glancing down at the sheathed weapon on his left hip. He ruefully shrugs. "Ah, I guess that I must have grabbed it out of habit. This one is not used to being able to leave such things lying around."

"Oh," Kaoru says quietly. Her shoulders relax a bit, but Kenshin can tell that she's still as tense as a bowstring. Her voice is careful and she tries not to sound too hopeful when she asks him, "So you're not leaving?"

Kenshin's throat goes dry and he finds that he can't speak when he opens his mouth. It's best to say it now when he has the chance than struggling to find a proper way to say it later. His mind is shouting at him to hurry up and be honest with her, to tell her that he's actually planning to leave in the morning, but his tongue is uncooperative and clumsy. Kaoru's luminous eyes look up at him with worry and her voice is hesitant and it's muddling his resolve.

"Kenshin?"

Kenshin knows very well that he can't stay here much longer, but the heartbreak lingering in her eyes is too much for him. He's insinuated the idea of him leaving before, and the panic that flashes across her face makes his stomach knot every time. He imagines her cooking small, burnt meals and eating by herself, and her short form bent over the laundry tub, scrubbing one person's worth of clothing. He doesn't know quite why, but something about the idea of her sipping her evening tea alone on the engawa causes a thick lump to form in his throat, and suddenly the prospect of saying farewell becomes a very daunting one.

"No," He finally admits with a halfhearted smile, "This one is not leaving."

He's a coward. A selfish, foolish coward with absolutely no spine or semblance of shame. He shouldn't stay here any longer. The fact that he cannot bear to imagine her living all by herself proves that he's already grown too attached. The entire point of his wandering is to avoid this very scenario: caring for someone he cannot afford to care for. He should thank her for her overwhelming kindness and cut ties now before he settles even further into this peaceful little life, but he cannot deny the warm feeling of satisfaction that blooms in his chest at the sight of her relieved smile.

"Oh, good." Kaoru says and her eyes sparkle and Kenshin can do nothing but stare in quiet amazement at how this woman seems to effortlessly light up the darkness with her smile. It's a contagious sort of smile that Kenshin is helpless to fight as it tugs the corners of his own lips upwards. "For a minute there I thought you were getting ready to go off and wander again or something."

"I would never leave without saying goodbye to you, Kaoru-dono, that I wouldn't."

It surprises him how much conviction is in his voice when he says it. Oddly his chest feels both heavier and lighter with this vocal decree, as if he's just taken some kind of sacred oath. He realizes that it's a pretty serious thing for a rurouni like him to promise her, but it is one he wants to keep. This promise makes Kaoru's eyes shimmer with joy and Kenshin thinks of things like dancing waters and warm summer suns, and somehow he doesn't feel so cold anymore.

"You better not," She huffs, but he can tell she's secretly elated. It makes something buzz pleasantly in his chest. "Or else I'll have to hunt you down."

"I have no doubt about that, that I don't." Kenshin chuckles. He takes a second to study her delighted face with a contented smile before resigning to his fate and gesturing with his hand down the hall. "Now this one knows that it's already very late, but would Kaoru-dono like to join me for a cup of tea?"

"I'd love one," Kaoru smiles, and for a moment Kenshin thinks that if she keeps on smiling like that, he may just make it through the winter.

* * *

"_And you're changing me_

_Changing me_

_Changing me_

_Changing me"_

* * *

**Japanese Vocabulary:**

**-**_**Shinai**_**- A wooden sword.**

**-**_**Hakama**_**- A pair of wide-bottomed pants that are typically worn by men. These are the kinds of pants that Kenshin and Yahiko wear, and the kind of pants that Kaoru wears when practicing.**

**-**_**Sakabatō**_**- Kenshin's reverse-blade sword.**

**-**_**Hanten**_**- A kind of overcoat that is worn for warmth over a kimono or yukata. Like a **_**haori**_**, but less formal.**


	5. Lover, I'll Be

**ATTN: Okay, I know that this is crazy short compared to the previous chapters but this song came on shuffle while I was rereading the Jinchuu Arc's ending and I couldn't help myself. It just kind of flew out of my brain. This is very, very much a drabble and it's pretty much the internal babbling in Kenshin's mind during the moment between him and Kaoru that happens after he falls into her arms. **

**Inspiration for the chapter and the suggested background music is "Home" by Mumford & Sons. I own absolutely nothing, or RuroKen would have an animated Jinchuu Arc by now.**

_**MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE JINCHUU ARC, MEANING CHAPTERS 211 AND BEYOND. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.**_

* * *

"_Wrap up your questions, keep them down_

_Let the water lead us home_

_And I was sorry for what I'd done_

_When you were young, I was not old_

_But our story was not told_

_But torn apart by greedy hands"_

* * *

**Lover, I'll Be**

* * *

She's standing before him with flushed cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, hand clutched to her heart and worry on her brow and breath in her lungs and she's so—so _alive—_that the solace makes his body ache. Kenshin shuffles his sore feet across the sand and trusts his muscles to go through the motions of sheathing his sakabatō because there's simply nothing more of himself to give. His lungs burn for air and he stops for a moment, finding the strength to smile for her as he rasps.

"Are you unhurt?"

Kaoru's crying but he knows it's from joy and relief and for once he does not worry about it because the mixture is just as potent within himself. "Yes," She says, and her voice fills him with the warmth of a fire in the most barren depths of winter.

The blood loss is making his head swim and his vision is tunneling, but he barely notices because everything else has already bled away like water and ink around her. As he gets closer he notices every detail about her, details that have been burned behind his eyelids and looked at over and over again during his time in _Rakuninmura_. Violet eyes are fixated on the small wisps of raven hair that fall around her heart-shaped face, the way she crinkles her nose as she smiles, the familiar crease between her brows, the delicate shade of pink that dusts her cheeks. And those eyes, _gods above_, how he's missed those sapphire eyes.

Her presence is stupefying. Kaoru's knuckles are white as they grip at the collar of her kimono and Kenshin can see the loose threads on her sleeve that he's been telling himself for _weeks_ now that he needs to fix because she's as talented with sewing as she is in the kitchen and he doesn't _care_ what she says about herself, the sweat and tears on her face make her _glow_ and she's _beautiful_—

His foot catches on itself in the damp sand and suddenly he's falling, falling down because he's worn and he's tired and he's just so, so relieved—and just as suddenly she's _there,_ with her arms around him and supporting him just as she always has, just as he selfishly hopes for her to always do. Kenshin collapses against her, burying his face against her chest and shaking with the realization of how desperately he's missed her scent of jasmine. It washes over him like the waves behind them, and he somehow finds the strength to wrap his shaking arms around her as they sink slowly to their knees.

Kenshin doesn't know where the tears are coming from. He feels as if he's spent every ounce of himself and he can't remember the last time he's had so much as a sip of water. But the tears keep streaking down his face regardless, as if drawn from the well of anguish within him that he's been slowly drowning in. Kaoru is shaking—or maybe it's him, he can't really tell. All he can feel is the quaking of his form and the heaving of his chest as he tries to catch his breath. She clutches him tightly, face pressed to his head and small, calloused hands stroking his hair. His own grip the back of her kimono tightly, and the fibers that catch on his cracked fingertips bring him back to the last time he held her like this and never again: Never again will he let her go.

He hears the crash of the waves on the shore and the dull roar of a hundred pairs of feet storming the beach. Sano is yelling something and Misao's laughter is bright and triumphant, and the rest of his family—his _family, _he still cannot quite grasp the thought that he really has one now—is just as rambunctious, but Kaoru's voice is the only one that he can focus on.

"I knew you'd come." She whispers against his hair. It's quiet and trembling and Kenshin can feel her felicity. His grip on her tightens and he wants to say a million things to her, but his throat feels raw and on the far brink of his consciousness he realizes that this small world surrounding them will not stay in tact forever. His eyes slide closed as emotion overtakes him.

Kenshin's heart is in a vice. Never once, in all of the nightmares that he has dragged her into, has Kaoru-dono ever given up on him. He doesn't know what to say or whom to thank, because he had long ago given up on the thought that a god could smile down upon him. But here she is, alive and safe and in his arms, and the blessedness he feels is overwhelming. It pours from his soul and floods his being, blurring his vision and tightening his throat. So he tilts his chin up and rests it on her shoulder and says the only thing he really can say to her, for her, and for himself. It barely caps the true depths of his heart, but it's the only thing she's ever really needed to hear:

"Always."

* * *

"_And I'll be home in a little while,_

_Lover, I'll be home"_

* * *

**Japanese Vocabulary**

_**Rakuninmura**_**: "Crowd of Fallen People"; the name of the wanderer village that Kenshin ran to after Kaoru's death.**


	6. Shiver and Shake

**I owe you all a HUGE apology for taking so long to update this, but it's for a good reason, I swear! Aside from real-world responsibilities, I've been working on another RuroKen project titled **_**Genesis**_**. If interested, please go check it out! Unlike **_**Solitude, **_**this will be a full-length, plot-driven story instead of a collection of oneshots. I'm crossing my fingers that you guys enjoy it, and again, I'm so sorry for making you all wait!**

**As always, I own nothing. **_**Sob.**_** This chapter's song was written to "Demons (Acoustic)" by Dry The River, although the original version fits nicely as well. It seems like I've been writing lots of angsty stuff lately. Huh.**

* * *

"_Under the weight of belief_

_You shiver and shake like a leaf_

_But death is a force, not a man on a horse_

_I'll keep you safe while you sleep"_

* * *

**Shiver and Shake**

* * *

The moon isn't nearly as bright as it was on that cold winter night so many, many months ago, but he can see her shaking just as easily as he could if she were standing in his doorway in the warm summer sunlight. It could be because he's used to sneaking around at night—after so many evenings prowling through ink-black alleys and skulking in shadows, Kenshin had wondered if his eyes would ever adjust to daylight again—but it could also be that in his eyes, Kaoru-dono has always given off her own sort of glow.

Something is off though. Her smile is there but something is _missing_ from it, like taking a bite of a meal and knowing that something has been forgotten but not being able to figure out what. Her usual energetic flutter of _ki_ feels more like the attempts of a bird with a broken wing, and she's clutching that same woolen blanket but her knuckles are white as bone when she offers it to him. The soft light of his lantern catches and plays through the strands of her hair and her eyes, and Kenshin is alarmed when he sees that they're rimmed with red.

"Kaoru-dono…"

He speaks softly, gently. In part because he could hear the hesitation in her knock and the crack in her voice as she comments on the chill in the early autumn air, but mostly because he's still scared. _Terrified_. He had clung to her like a frightened child on the beach of Enishi's island, but a small part of himself, the part that holds tight to the memories of white plum blossoms, is convinced that if he's too careless she'll shatter like porcelain. The thought makes his throat feel raw and he finds it difficult to breathe.

She pointedly avoids meeting his eyes and it's obvious; the tanzanite of her eyes jumps wildly around from the floor to her hands and back again. Kaoru-dono's hands wring the fabric over and over as her teeth begin to worry her bottom lip. He would wait for her if she looked like she was merely torn over something, but she looks torn _up_ and worry tangles knots in his gut. Her hands are freezing when he takes them into his much larger one, and it brings back too many nightmares of pale skin and cross-shaped scars.

"Kaoru-dono, please, tell this one what's wrong." He asks. When she looks away, he all but begs her. "_Please_._"_

When she looks to his face, Kenshin can see Kaoru-dono's resolve crumble like sand beneath the ocean's waves. The blanket falls to the floor forgotten as her arms cling to him like he were the only thing keeping her anchored to the world. Kenshin stands there in shock as she trembles in his arms but he recovers, and with fervor. His good arm grips her shoulder as hard as he dares to, because he wants to comfort her but he can't stop the sound of breaking glass that rings loudly his head.

"Kaoru-dono—"

"I shouldn't have asked him," She gasps through her tears. "I shouldn't have asked him but I just kept pushing and pushing and—and—"

Kenshin pulls back, an equal mixture of confusion and concern mingling in his chest. "Kaoru-dono, you need to slow down, that you do." He coos. "Now who and what did you ask?"

She pulls away just enough to wipe at her eyes with her sleeve. "Sa—Sano," She hiccups. "He kept telling me to wait for you to bring it up yourself, that he didn't have the right to tell me, but you've just been acting so strange lately and it scared me and—"

Dread floods him. He's afraid that he already knows the answer, but he has to ask. He has to be sure. Kenshin must speak slowly and steadily to keep his voice even.

"Kaoru-dono, just what did you ask Sanosuke?"

And finally, _finally_, she looks at him. Her eyes, those luminous blue eyes that are always so filled with warmth and joy and _life_ are now dull, filled with a deep sense of sorrow and remorse. Her eyes tell him everything without her having to say a word, but her need to fill the gaping silence between them is too great.

"He told me about…about Enishi's _Jinchuu_."

His body goes rigid. It's been almost a month since their return from that island and just as long since the sickness of Enishi's jinchuu had last been mentioned by anyone in the Kamiya Dojo. Things had fallen back into routine quickly, with Kaoru-dono resuming her lessons and Kenshin resuming his chores and the resuming inevitability of life moving on. Kenshin knows he should speak, should assure her that yes, he's fine and _she's_ fine and everything is _fine_ now, but he can't lie to her. Not to her. _Never_ to her. So he bows his head instead to hide his shame.

"I'm sorry," Kaoru-dono whispers softly. He can't see her face but he can hear her tears, feel them soak through the cotton of his yukata as she leans her head against his chest. "I'm so sorry, Kenshin."

Something about hearing her apologize to him jars something deep within Kenshin's chest that overrides his senses, leaves him bare and raw and reeling. His good arm slides across her back to wrap around her shoulders, clutching her as close to him as possible. He buries his face in her hair and inhales her jasmine perfume and condemns himself for crying.

"Don't apologize. You are not the one who has to apologize." His voice cracks, begging. "Don't _ever_ apologize, especially to someone like me."

Kaoru-dono's hands clutch the back of his yukata tightly. She's still shaking, the force of her tears wracking her small frame. "Of course I'm going to apologize!" She cries. "I mean, I knew that Enishi wanted to hurt you, but I never realized that he made you all think that I was..." She trails off, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the thought. "I promised myself that I would never make you feel like that again, that I wouldn't die and _leave you—"_

"And you didn't. You're right here." Kenshin argues, although he doesn't know for who's benefit he says this for. "It is I who broke my promise to you, Kaoru-dono. I promised that I would protect you, but I let Enishi get to you. I thought he'd—" He can't bring himself to say it. Even after a month, he can't bear to say that he thought that she had died. His heart aches so badly at the memory of seeing her face bearing his scar that it takes his breath away and he chokes back a strangled sob.

"Kenshin," Kaoru-dono says softly as she strokes his hair. It's just like it was on the beach, him clinging to her like a lost, frightened child who had finally found his way home. And he _is_ home, he thinks; home here in this dojo, here in this room, here in her arms that he'd never thought he'd ever feel again.

"I thought I'd lost you," Kenshin whispers against her hair. It's the first time he's said it out loud, and the fear quakes his bones. "Knowing you were gone because I couldn't protect you…I couldn't bear it."

"So you left?"

His eyes widen. "How did you—"

"Sanosuke told me everything." He can hear the agony in her voice, and guilt claws his insides. It's a foolish thing to wish for in hindsight, but he'd hoped that she'd never learn just what Enishi's living hell had entailed. But true to form, Kenshin can hear her benevolent resolve as she speaks. "Kenshin, no matter what, this is your home. Even if…Even if I'm not here, this will _always_ be your home."

Kenshin shakes his head, tightening his hold on her as if she'd slip away from him like smoke. _No, it's not, _he wants to scream. _Not without you._

But how can he possibly begin to describe such a feeling of loss? What could he say that could ever help her to understand what her death had been like? Are there even words to describe such a feeling of desolation, anything large enough to measure the void that she had left within him? He has no home without her. No place of belonging without her. No sense of _being_ without her, because she _is_ his home, his reason, his drive. How can he even begin to explain how she's become something so vital to him that his very foundation had been obliterated by her absence?

But this is Kaoru-dono, and there is no one on this earth who understands him if not her. She leans back in his hold and takes his face in her sword-calloused hands, and with worshipful awe he watches her wipe the tears from his eyes without a word. Her thumb traces his scar, no more than a gossamer against his skin, but the touch is enough to thaw him. It's dizzying to think of how quickly and effortlessly this clumsy, earnest, beautiful woman had slipped beneath his skin and rooted herself in his very core.

With a soft smile Kaoru-dono asks him, "I know it's already late, but would you like some tea?" She chuckles quietly, and despite his pain Kenshin finds it hard not to smile at the sound. "I promise that I won't scorch the tea leaves."

Kenshin raises his hand to hers and squeezes it, smile warm and filled with the words he's never been good at finding. "I'd love one."

Her smile is brilliant as she leads him down the hall by the hand to the kitchen, and as they sit together on the engawa with cups of cooling tea cradled in their hands and Kaoru-dono drifting off to sleep on his shoulder, Kenshin can't help himself from tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingertips linger against her cheek, savoring her warmth.

_She's here_, he thinks, _she's here and she's alive._ His hand finds hers beside him and he laces their fingers together, squeezing them gently. In her sleep he sees her smile, and the darkness in his heart recedes like the tide. _She's here_, he thinks. And as long as she's here, he'll be home.

* * *

"_We fight those demons day in and day out,__  
__Day in and day out, day in and day out"_


End file.
